How To Return Home

Your bare feet sliding on the old wooden floorboards, Home just as you left it but still you’re shaken, Like walking into a museum somehow out of time. It’s all the same except the girl in the hallway, Where she’s been and who she will ripen into, Your childhood’s on the other side of a sprawling divide… too wide.

Take a silent breath. Hold in the change. Tell yourself you still live here. Take your bags upstairs. It’s the only way you’ll get through today. Count the hours. Take a shower. Wash yourself away.

The house is pulsing with an alien heartbeat, Was it always here but you never listened? It’s calling you to be the girl that you were way back then… again.

Take a silent breath. Hold in the change. Tell yourself you still live here. Take your bags upstairs. Put away your clothes, take it nice and slow. Be their daughter. Nothing’s harder When nobody knows How to return home.

How to return home And how to survive, There’s no written guidelines. How to go back, How to show up and unpack. How to show up. How to grow up. How to take a breath.

Take a silent breath. Hold in the change. Tell yourself you still live here. Take your bags upstairs. You still share a name But you’re not the same. You don’t fight it. You don’t hide it. It’s a whole new game of how to return home. How to return home. How to return home. How to return home.

Your bare feet sliding on the old wooden floorboards, Home just as you left it but still you’re shaken.